


A Friendly Shadow

by bgoldfish



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7011496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgoldfish/pseuds/bgoldfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old friends spark new friends and an eventual homecoming brings all three together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friendly Shadow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookwormfaith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormfaith/gifts).



Ecthelion kept to himself after his rebirth. He would play his flute and make willow whistles for children, what children there were. He would offer advice if it was requested, but mostly...

He watched and waited. Each ship brought the bard back to the shores facing East. Such was his attention that he did not register he wasn't the only one almost always there, always in the same spot. Always watching until it was clear one golden haired elf wasn't there.

Ages passed and little changed. There was a bit of a stir when an elf of the Greenwood sailed with a dwarf, but still there was no sign of Glorfindel. The Valar would have told him if his friend had been killed, or so he hoped. Still more time trickled by, barely noticed except for a dull ache of absence.

He made himself a new home in a secluded glade where he could simply exist. A home large enough for guests, should it be needed. Some worried over him, but he was used to being alone, and Tirion was not what his heart yearned for. It hurt to visit that great city, though he bore it well when called. Each time he returned, or (it seemed) turned around, there was a new book, or scroll on his doorstep. His library grew.

But who cared, and dared, to bring him such thoughtful gifts? And why did they bother? Here he was nothing. A relic.

Eventually he caught sight of a handsome elf leaving on swift feet. Not one he'd had much occasion to speak with, but one who had come over with Lord Elrond, unless his eyes fooled him. That first meeting had been hard, to be told Glorfindel had stayed behind to watch over Elrond's children. He managed it though, somehow, and had taken care to do what he could for the peredhel.

But...ah...Erestor? He did not see _why_ that quiet adviser wished anything to do with him, beyond delivering a letter from Glorfindel.

Perhaps he should try and change that...

When he next had reason to visit the city, he asked after Erestor and was told where to go. To the shores looking East. To where, if he thought of it, only a shadow would stand. He paused, studying the elf for a few minutes.

“Word has it that you spend much of your time here,” he commented in lieu of greeting. Erestor startled and spun to face him, then bowed to him slightly in greeting, which he eventually returned. “Only when I am not needed elsewhere, lord,” the mild, pleasant voice answered.

“I am no lord here,” Ecthelion stifled a sigh. Posturing and skivvying for favor, it felt. “It seems we are both lost, without our city-homes to protect or advise.” And without a bright light to make them get out and live again. He looked, but saw little reaction to his observation. “Why have you been gifting me books?”

Ha! There. Just a little sign, but he saw weight shift and grey eyes dart away before returning to him. “Do you not like to read? I have always found it soothing.”

Rue touched his lips. “Glorfindel told you,” he murmured a light accusation. He saw a slim shoulder move, as good an agreement as any. “He promised to return, one day,” he eventually commented. But stepped forward, coming abreast of the shorter elf. Erestor slowly turned, so they stood shoulder to shoulder, looking out over the sea. “One day, he will.”

_But when?_ went unasked.

Time slipped by and eventually Ecthelion thought to speak again. “If you need a quiet place to stay, my door is open.” And turned to leave. He wasn't expecting a reply, nor did he receive one.

Not until months later, and rather than more books, there was an elf on his doorstep. Not shifting, no. But Ecthelion had the sense of nerves as they stared at each other in silence. Then he stepped back and away, giving way and wordlessly inviting Erestor in.

Tea and books and memories of Middle-Earth quietly took over the silence of loneliness. Blades were brought out and Ecthelion learned Erestor was more than ink and tea. Time slid by as a river, to be observed, and the two grew closer and comfortable with one another.

Then time came to a halt as a shout rang out, reaching through Tirion to disturb the normal bustle about, even reaching their ears. Another ship had been spotted. Just one. But the last ship to have come in had been quite some time before.

A shared glance and off they ran, down the familiar path to avoid the city itself. They would come upon enough people without going through the city. The docks were full of people, except for one. The one with the ship, and the High King stood to welcome whomever it was home.

This time...

_This time_ was different. Ecthelion felt his breath stolen away as a familiar golden head stepped down onto the dock and swept a bow to the King with a grin that could be seen for miles. He wasn't alone, thankfully. Even Ecthelion could see the resemblance the twin elves had to Elrond. He hardly needed the pleased hum from his companion to confirm Elrohir and Elladan had also come home. Nor did he need to see those two greet their parents with laughs and hugs, one sweeping the lady up and around before the other could get his arms around her.

...For once he was distracted by the warmth beside him, enough that he hardly realized Glorfindel approached until he was right before them. Erestor was treated to a tight hug, earning a rather dignified huff. In that moment he composed himself, and gave his friend a mock-stern stare.

“You are _late_ , old friend.”

It didn't matter, the next second, as Glorfindel laughed and swept him up in a hug to mirror what Celebrian had been treated to. “I thought I was right on time!”

The blond was impossible to remain even upset with for more than a breath, perhaps two if he had done something _really bad_ , and he chuckled fondly, unbending enough to hug back.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was meant to be something completely different, but I like how it ended up writing itself. I might add more to it later as another chapter or related ficlet. What do you guys think?


End file.
